Hi everybody!
I figured since Herr Butt was going through the trouble of creating a server, I would take on the role of official rumor starter and RP thread creator. Besides, I'm bored. A LOT of the names will be familiar to the old timers, and all are welcome to play along. For those of you who need a timeline to follow, I'm going with about the command structure for CW2-3. All are welcome to join, but remember, it's going to be F/R/G, so pick a side, and I'll see you when the server starts! (Herr Butt, I hope ya don't mind to much!)
Stardate 2267.81.934
Space station Joltvee Prime, orbiting Ghdar
Grand Hall, Battle Academy Commencement, Class 2267. Gamma
Gwarlock could hardly believe his serpentine eyes. He actually was here. Graduating from the fledgling Gorn Battle Academy. He knew very few of the pilots around him. His appointment to the academy was incredible in its own right. And now, here he was, graduating second in his class.
It hadn't always been a majestic sight. He was not Chancellor spawn, nor did he have any of the Imperial ties that his classmates shared. HIs had been a struggle. LIfe on the lower section of Ghdar had always been perilous. He lived his early years by his wits and quickness alone. Then, one day, a lowly freighter captain had noticed his quick hands and keen wit and took the young lizard under his arm, teaching him the rudiments of spaceflight and tactics. He had regarded the lizard as his son, and Gwarlock cared for him also, as much as a lizard could. They became fast friends, until a fatal encounter with a Romulan warbird. His friend and mentor died that day, and Gwarlock took the blood oaths so familiar to his people. The Romulans would pay tenfold, and none would escape judgement.
He didn't realize that he had his fists clenched so tight as the memories flashed through his head. The Imperial Chime sounded, rousing him from his dreams. All stood as Chancellor Joltvee strode into the Hall, and seated himself on the dias facing the small crowd of assembled Gorn officers.
"All Hail, Chancellor Joltvee, the Foretold. Defender of the Nest, and Keeper of the Scales."
Everyone saluted. He was in awe of the huge lizard in front of the class. Joltvee. The Foretold. The Gorn who would organize the rabble and conquer worlds. His name meant 'He who devours the enemy' and Gwarlock could see where it came from. Under him, the Confederation had grown to challenge her enemies. He was as skilled a diplomat as he was a pilot.
Sooner than he thought, he was kneeling before the great lizard, swearing fealty and receiving his commision. He was now a Captain in the Gorn armada, however small it was. But an animal didn't have to be big to deliver a deadly bite. And he would learn to have his fangs drip venom.
The after feast was indeed grand, and he stayed entirely too long. He head rang loudly as he woke the morningnext, but any feelings of ill were soon washed away with the joy of seeing his ship for the first time. He hurridly dressed, and made his way to the spacedock. Level 42Alpha. He knew it by heart. She was a capable Battlecruiser. He had pondered for days what he would rename her. It took some time before he settled on 'Bloodletter'. He took the bridge among salutes and settled into his captains chair. He could definitely become accustomed to this. HIs XO approached with their orders. Patrol the Southern border and report. Investigate any unknown. Defend the Confederation.
Leaving spacedock on the maiden voyage of the Bloodletter, HIS ship, he swore he would do just that. Woe to any enemy he encountered.